


Pain

by GoddessTiera



Series: MEFFW Prompts. [18]
Category: Mass Effect
Genre: F/M, Gen, Grief/Mourning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-08
Updated: 2016-08-08
Packaged: 2018-08-07 12:25:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7714786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoddessTiera/pseuds/GoddessTiera
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kaidan in the aftermath of Shepard's death.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pain

**Author's Note:**

> It has been a while since I wrote anything for the prompts in my ME group and it feels nice to write again. 
> 
> I play on PS so I am stuck with Liara in the beginning of ME2 as ME1 wasn't available at first. That is why Kaidan isn't the one that speaks to Shepard during the attack.

Prompt: what you don't want to remember  
Characters: anyone other than Shepard

 

“Where the fuck is it?” thought Kaidan as he stumbled around his apartment searching for another bottle of whiskey. He knew he had to have at least one full bottle left. He was beginning to feel sober and he couldn’t handle sober. Sober never came alone. No, sober was cruel and brought with it the memories he was trying to drown back to the front of his thoughts, playing them over and over like a movie he couldn't turn off. His own mind was torturing him. 

The memory of how her soft her lips felt against his during stolen moments on board the Normandy whenever they found themselves alone. The memory of how her body felt tucked up against his while they slept during their shore leave after the Citadel battle. The feel of her naked skin against his and the way she said his name like a prayer when he was buried deep inside her. The little crinkle in her brow when she was deep in thought and the way she laughed at stupid puns. He would give anything to hear that laugh again but she was gone, ripped away from him before they had even began to explore what it was between them. 

He should have gone to look for her when everyone started heading for the escape pods after the attack. He had never once thought that she wouldn’t make it to one. Liara had gotten angry at him and had went to look for Shepard herself. Maybe if he had gone after her instead of getting the crew to safety, to get Joker with her, maybe she would still be here. If Joker hadn’t been so fucking stubborn, maybe she would still be here. If he had gone, he could have gotten Joker and died instead.

He had gone over and over in his mind the events of that day trying his damndest to figure out what he could have done to save her. He had been stuck, locked in that day, unable to escape. He had barely been able to function under the weight of his grief and guilt.

Anderson and Hackett both had ordered him to take leave. He had done his best to keep it together though her funeral, he wouldn’t let her name or what they had be shamed by gossip, but they had seen right through him. They could see that he was taking her death far harder than any of the other crew. It wasn’t a hard leap from there to realize that there had been more between them than was allowed. Neither had called him on breaking the regs because there was no point. She was gone.

He had gone straight from the memorial to buy as much whiskey as he could carry and had spent every day since then in an alcohol fueled haze. He had even bought her favorite brand in honor of the nights they had shared a bottle and talked about the past, getting to know each other slowly. 

He continued to stumble around until he found the bag of bottles. Empty, empty, empty, why were they all empty? He grabbed one and threw it across the room. Instead of the satisfying sound of it smashing into a million pieces, it collided with the wall with a thud, leaving a dent behind and falling to the floor still intact. 

The fact that the bottle didn’t break left him even angrier and he felt himself snap. He raked everything off the counter into the floor. He turned and flipped the table over before heading into the living room. He let loose a heart wrenching scream as he biotically tossed a chair. He kicked the couch and sent it sliding all the way to the other side of the room. He continued his violent assault on the room, tossing furniture and punching a giant hole in the wall before he was finished. 

He stared at the carnage he had caused, chest heaving with hard breaths, before sinking to his knees. There, finally, the tears he had been trying so hard to hold back began to fall freely down his face. He cried for everything he had lost and the future he couldn’t have. He cried until he couldn’t breath. He cried until there were no more tears left to shed but his body continued to quiver with dry sobs until he felt sick and he jumped up and ran for the bathroom, barely making it in time before his stomach expelled it’s contents.

He stayed there, his head pressed against the cold porcelain, until he was sure it was safe to move and carefully stood and walked to the sink. He took in his appearance in the mirror. He looked like shit. His hair was a tangled mess, his eyes were red and bloodshot with dark circles underneath. He didn't recognize himself. Days of not bathing and barely sleeping while living on mostly alcohol had taken its toil. 

He splashed water on his face and quickly brushed his teeth to eliminate the foul taste in his mouth before returning to the living room. Now calm, he took in all the damage his outburst had caused. What was he doing? This wouldn’t have made Luna happy. If he let himself think about her for a moment, he could imagine exactly what she would say to him. “Don’t let your grief destroy you.” 

It was similar to something she had told him once about the person she was before she joined the Alliance. “I was consumed by anger back then. Every time I found a little bit of happiness, it was taken from me or mocked and it left me bitter. I almost gave up but I wouldn’t let my anger destroy me and the person I wanted to be.”

He wanted to live by her example. She wouldn’t want him to lose himself because of her. He didn’t know if he could learn to live without the other half of his soul, but he had to try. He decided to take things one task at a time. First was the fallout of his anger.

It took him several hours to clean up the mess. He couldn’t do anything about the wall today but it mostly looked the way it had before. Next on the list was food. There wasn’t much in the fridge but he managed to make a few sandwiches that he ate slowly, he hadn’t had any real food in days and he didn’t want to end up hugging the toilet again. As he ate, he finally got a good whiff of himself, his nose turning up at the odor. Getting clean was definitely next.

He finished his meal and headed to the bathroom. He undressed while the water warmed up and then stepped into shower. The hot water felt better than he expected. He just stood there and let it cascade over his body. He let himself think of Luna and his eyes filled with tears. It wasn’t fucking fair! Why would the universe bring such an amazing person, someone who made him so happy, into his life and then rip them away after only a moment?

His breathing began to speed up and he recognized the beginnings of a panic attack. He had never been prone to them but he had seen Luna have enough to know he was having one. He tried to remember the things she did to get through them.  
Find something to focus on and control your breathing. Since he was in the shower, he focused on the feel of the water as it hit his back and the cold of the porcelain tiles of the wall under his hand. He began to mentally chant to himself, in and out, in and out, in and out, as he worked on slowing his breathing just like she used to do. It was several minutes before he felt calm enough to finish his shower. He also avoided thinking about Luna.

He spent the next few days on autopilot. Doing the things he needed too but numb to everything. He kept himself from thinking about anything.

One week after the memorial, there was a knock. He wasn’t surprised to see Anderson. He waved him in and followed him to the living room where they both sat down.

They sat in silence for a moment before Anderson spoke. “How have you been?”

“I could ask the same of you sir.” Very few people knew that Anderson had adopted Shepard when she was sixteen. She had kept her last foster mother’s last name to prevent special treatment as his daughter. Losing her had to have been as hard for him as it had been for Kaidan.

“I’ve kept myself busy. It’s hard but there is still a threat out there and I won’t let her down by forgetting. That is part of why I am here. I want you to return to duty. You can’t keep yourself locked up here forever. She needs us to fight.”

Kaidan, who had been unable to meet Anderson’s gaze, finally met his eyes. “I don’t know if I can.”

“Of course you can. You were an exemplary soldier before you met her and based on her reports, you are even better now. She needs those of us who believe the Reapers are coming to keep trying to prepare. The Alliance needs you to step up. You can’t replace her but you can continue her legacy. I am going to tell you something she sent me in a report on her crew. ‘Kaidan is one of the finest Marines I have ever served with. He is only held back by his own insecurities and fear of unleashing his full potential. Should anything ever happen to me, I have no doubt that he could fill my shoes and perhaps surpass me.’ She believed in you Kaidan.” Anderson stood and placed his hand on Kaidan’s shoulder. “Don’t let her down son.” With those final words, he turned and left.

He sat there and let Anderson’s words sink in and he made a decision. It wouldn’t be easy, there would still be days (probably most of them) that he struggled, but he had to at least try. Anderson was right. There was still a fight coming and he would keep fighting it for her.


End file.
